One Thousand and One
by Mrs.Robward
Summary: You encounter thousands of people in your life and none of them really touch you, then you meet just one person... and your life is changed. Forever. AH / AU
1. Chapter 1

_*****I let T & B read a little, they said put it out there, so here it is._

_****Please read the author note at the bottom._

_***Chapters may be short._

_**Pyejammies beta'd._

_*I claim all stupidity and mistakes._

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><p><strong>telepathy:<strong>  
>(n.) The sympathetic affection of one mind by the thoughts, feelings, or emotions of another at a distance, without communication through the ordinary channels of sensation.  communication between minds by some means other than sensory perception.

1882, coined (along with telæsthesia) by Eng. psychologist Frederic Myers(1843-1901), from tele- "far" + -pathy "feeling." Telepathic was first recorded in 1884.

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><p><strong>1001 - Chapter 1, An Introduction to Edward Masen<strong>

I, Edward Masen, am a loner.

That had been proven one day at the young age of eight when I had confided in my mother that I could hear things, more specifically, I could hear the thoughts inside people's minds without them having speak a word.

The next day she had me committed.

I quickly learned that mind reading wasn't the norm, that it made me a freak, an outcast. So much of one that my only family member didn't want me around. As she walked away—down that long hallway—away from me, as my arms were being restrained by two orderlies, she cried. Through her tears she apologized over and over, sobbing that she was frightened of me.

I'll never forget watching her leave and that feeling of abandonment, that hollowness inside my chest that pulsed and swelled.

So I did what any other eight year old kid would do, I lied.

I swore I had made it all up to gain attention and somehow, that lie, was accepted more than the truth had been.

That fib didn't make things better though, because my mother never came back to that mental hospital for me. Soon I was shipped from foster home to foster home, never in one place for long.

The next ten years of my life I learned how to survive on my own. Yes, I had people who provided me with a roof over my head, clothes to wear, and food to eat. But I never had trust or devotion or the love of a family.

As much as I could, I cut myself off from the world. I read and studied on my telepathy and searched for ways to control it, to turn it off.

I didn't even want it.

Needless to say, mind reading made me loathe people. Their thoughts were ugly and mean, even toward ones they truly loved.

I felt alone.

I felt cursed.

I felt damned.

Then when I was fifteen, I finally fell in love—with music.

I listened to it all—any type of music would do—but classical was my favorite. I considered it a miracle because music could do something for me that nothing else could do—music could block me.

Music somehow cut the sound wave of thoughts from other people that my mind could attune to, severing it before it reached me. The music had to be loud, and it had to be direct, and it had to be confined to me.

I penny pinched and saved to buy some of those expensive headphones, the noise canceling ones. The big, round type that covered your whole ears. When wearing them I could almost feel normal.

I would turn up Debussy loud on my cheap mp3 player and then I could comfortably leave my house. I could actually walk down the street and hear nothing but piano keys and a beautiful melody. No voices, no fears, no worries, no complaints, no lies, no truths.

I still kept from making eye contact with strangers, doing so was a magnifier for me. The thought waves were strong when eye contact was made. Strong enough to be heard over my music. So walking, living, existing with my head held down was how it had to be.

Even through all the dysfunction of my adolescence and my youth, I was a super smart guy, a so-called genius. I graduated with honors and received an academic scholarship to Yale.

With extreme determination I took the scholarship, excelled, and graduated. It was never easy, but I did it all on my own.

Soon after I moved here to Chicago.

Other than that one time when I was eight, I never spoke again about my freak ability, and with my ever changing surroundings, it was soon forgotten by those around me.

Forgotten by everyone but me. I still could read minds. I still couldn't have close friends or a steady girlfriend because I knew—I knew it all. Everything from within the deep recesses of their mind. Even when I didn't want to know.

People were crude and nasty by nature.

I found myself better off without them.

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><p><em>So, I realized the other day whilst sitting and blankly staring at my laptop that some days I needed something a little deeper to write than Losing Game, which is about 2 high school kids all silly and stupid. I need adulthood, depth, maturity, drama, struggles, etc. I think that's what was blocking me, so I watched a movie and presto, this lil' plot bunneh was born. The summary is from a recent movie, double-chocolate Edward points to you if you know it! ;)<br>_

_As this comes to me, I WILL WRITE IT. **I make no promises other than I will finish it. **It's not an angst fest, but there will be drama. If you need to know more, please review/PM me. I don't plan for it to be too lengthy.  
><em>

_Twitter: **Mrs_Robward** _

_If you are on FB, I have one of those private group page-things, if you want it. We chat frequently there about all sorts of stuff. it's called: **MrsRobward's Fanfiction Closet**_

_(insert hearts here) **Reviews are love** (and here)_


	2. Chapter 2

_I. Am. Floored, by the response to the first chapter. Thank you all so much. I love all the reviews. I will try to reply to them, but if it comes to either writing an update or review replying, I think I better write!_

_This is going to be in all EPOV. _

_Pyejammies beta'd but all mistakes are still mine.  
><em>

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><p><strong>Sometimes, perhaps, we are allowed to get lost that we may find the right person to ask directions of. ~Robert Brault<strong>

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><p><strong>1001 - Chapter 2, The Bakery<strong>

I was hired by a medical research firm which was based out of the city. I was blessed to be able to work from the confines of my home and submit all my findings electronically.

My job didn't require very much face-to-face interaction with others, for that I was grateful.

I was also slowly writing a book, an autobiography of my life. It was a sort of therapy for me. I was able to finally purge all the emotions I had buried down in my soul. It became a necessity for me to try to strip it from within and put it on paper—so to speak.

I spent many nights up late typing away on my keyboard, recalling the missed birthdays and holidays spent alone. Remembering all the days past that I spent pulling my hair out by the roots praying for the voices just to stop. Nights spent sleeping alone in the forest under the blanket of stars in the sky, thankful for the few hours of peace and quiet, and ignoring the stinging and numbing of my fingers and toes from the cold night air.

But more so than any of that, I always seemed to come back to thinking about the same thing, that painful train of thought that every other thought leads to in my mind. That something was something that I'd never really had, something I'd longed for my whole life—a true friend, for companionship and familiarity. Allegiance and devotion. Kinship and alliance.

There was also a deeper more profound tier to that yearning and that was the dream of a lover. A warm body to lie next to mine. A soft hand to hold. Wet lips to kiss. Some girl to call my own, yet be my equal. Someone who whispered my name in the dark and sought out my face in a crowded room. Someone who thought of me upon waking and saw my face at night before they slept. That was my wish of all wishes. I wanted that, more than anything, even more so than a friend.

I wanted love.

In my latter teenage years, I'd been on a date or two. I'd even had sex, albeit it was quick and meaningless in the backseat of a car, but it was enough that I knew what I was missing. All the touching and the passion. The bliss and the ecstasy. The want and the need.

If I thought of it too often, it depressed me. I knew my life now was decent, I got by and I couldn't complain, but I'd never stopped wanting more.

Never.

But I did hate the impossible feeling that consumed me when I thought of the love of a woman finally being mine own. It was so hard to imagine myself spending the rest of my years alone.

Would death not be an equal to that?

**~1001~**

This was my third move since I'd been in Chicago. The first apartment I moved into, was damaged by smoke when the roof three floors above me caught on fire.

The second was so overrun with rats, I felt like I was trespassing on their turf.

Two week ago, I lucked up and found this amazing apartment in one of the better districts downtown. The rent was cheap because there was going to be some major construction work across the street and many people wouldn't tolerate that kind of noise.

Luckily, I wasn't many people. I even thought that maybe the constant noise could be a filter for my busy mind.

After unpacking the boxes of what few belongings I had, I put on my jacket and set out to walk the neighborhood, my earphones in place, and my music blaring.

I tucked my hands into my jacket pockets and concentrated on watching my feet as I strode along the sidewalk. I glanced up every so often, checking my surroundings. The streets were not overly crowded today, then again it was late fall and quite chilly outside.

This neighborhood was a serene place to be yet still be so close to the bustle of the city. What few leaves the trees still had dangling from their gangly limbs were colorful, while the fallen ones littered the concrete like large autumn confetti.

I watched as my breath left my mouth in a puff of steam and fog and then dissipated into the cool air. I wished I could be outside more often. I found such beauty in nature and I felt so alive in the open vastness of the world. Most public places make me feel confined and trapped, so more often than not, I stay holed up in my home.

I continued my trek down the street when suddenly my music abruptly stopped. I pulled my player out of my pocket and cursed when I realized I had forgotten to charge it last night.

Then out of nowhere, I heard a rumble. Loud, deep pulses that seemed to thunder in my ears and ricochet in my mind. I knew all too well what that sound was...

It was a crowd.

Panicked, I spun around, looking for an escape. I spotted the mass of people headed my way. It was a college field trip, art students searching the streets for inspiration. All laughing and talking and thinking at the same time.

I resisted the urge to fall to my knees and bury my head in my lap.

Behind me I saw a small bakery nestled in between two other large buildings. From the outside looking in I could only see two, maybe three people inside. I opened the front door and ran in.

I didn't have the time to stop and enjoy the warm, sweet air that encased me as soon as I stepped foot in the place, but it settled all around me. I could even taste the sugar on my tongue.

I rushed to the front, not looking at anyone around me. "Excuse me, miss, do you have a restroom I could use?" I asked the woman behind the counter.

She looked at me strangely. Her thoughts said she figured I was another homeless drifter who wanted to bathe myself in her sink. She wasn't going to have it, she was going to make me leave.

I broke eye contact and pleaded, "Please, just for a moment. Let me use your restroom."

"I'm sorry sir, our bathroom is for paying customers only." She turned away from me. I heard her internal cursing at the filth on the streets.

"Here," I dug through my pockets. I pulled out and slapped a ten dollar bill on the counter. "I'll buy something when I get out. Please, just tell me where it is?" The crowd was closer and the noise was growing louder, almost so loud I thought my legs might give out from the pain of the roar in my head.

"Fine," she pointed to her right and I took off.

Finding a means to block my telepathy had in turn made me more sensitive. If I didn't have my music on, I was a sitting duck.

My back slid down the closed door and I covered my ears with my hands. I began to hum to myself as I rocked my body and waited for the living nightmare to end.

**~1001~**

"Excuse me sir, are you all right?" With a knock, a soft, gentle voice asked from behind the closed bathroom door.

I was still sitting on the floor. My ears ached from the pressure my hands had exerted from covering my head so tightly.

I didn't answer her.

She rapped at the door again as I wearily rose up off the floor.

"Sir? I'm going to have to unlock the door from the outside if you don't answer me…" She was a little louder this time.

"Thank you, I'll be right out. " I cut her off as I turned on the water to wash my hands and try to calm my racing heart.

I still felt the panic inside me, knowing that I would somehow have to leave this bathroom and make it back to my apartment with no music at all. I paused as I turned off the water and listened for the mass of people that had been outside.

A tear rolled down my face as my head pounded from the after-effects of all the earlier noise, but it seemed that most of the crowd had moved on out of my range.

I wiped off my face and dried my hands. I took a few deep breaths and adjusted the headphones that still covered my ears even though they weren't any help at the moment.

With much dread, I opened the door to see a different girl from the previous one who had been behind the counter, standing on the other side. Her brow was scrunched with concern as she looked me over. "Are you okay?" she asked.

I didn't want to make eye contact so instead I watched her lips to determine if she was talking aloud to me or not, and then I nodded when I realized she was.

She reached forward to touch my arm and right then, I couldn't help it, I glanced up at her face. What I found there, it moved me inside in places that had been dormant and stagnant. Her eyes were so warm and deep and brown. Her dark hair was pulled up and away from her face, but a few strands had slipped out and curled on the ends around her chin. The look of concern that was etched on her features was one I hadn't seen in a long time, if ever. She cared about me and my well being. I couldn't explain the way my world seemed to shift and realign for no explainable reason at all. It was overwhelming and unsettling.

"Are you sure? You look pale, do you need something?" She stepped closer.

I realized I hadn't said anything, but I was stunned. The longer I looked into her face, her eyes, the more I was certain that she was …silent. I still heard a buzz around us, but her mind was so quiet and still.

Either she was the dumbest girl I'd ever met—her mind was as blank as a clean sheet of paper—or I couldn't hear her thoughts.

None of them. None at all.

That hadn't happened before.

Was it even possible?

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><p><em>Well? See what's happening here? <em>

_I'm not quitting Losing Game, I will write both. _

_Let me know what you think about these turn of events. What do you think will happen? Why is this girl's mind silent?_

_Reviews are love. _


	3. Chapter 3

_Pyejammies beta'd _

_I forgot to say this & I'm not even sure it's necessary, but anyway, here it is:_

_**DISCLAIMER: Twilight is not mine, **unless you count my books and movies that I bought, and then a teensy bit of it IS mine!  
><em>

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><p><strong>"There is no such thing as accident; it is fate<strong>** misnamed." ~****Napoleon Bonaparte**

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><p><strong>1001 - Chapter 3, Her Touch<strong>

She placed the back of her hand on my forehead, "You don't feel feverish or clammy."

I was practically panting with fear. All my life, I'd prayed and wished for this, for silence, for her—and now what am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to say? How I am supposed to stay calm and think rationally? I don't want to freak her out, to scare her away.

"I'm...sorry about that, I'm fine. Thank you." My voice shook with nerves and trepidation, but I didn't know what to say. I could barely think logically, much less talk.

She took a step back away from me and I bent my head down to look straight into her eyes again, she confused me so.

One side of my mouth lifted and curled into a crooked smile and then she giggled.

"What?" she whispered as her hand came up to swipe over her face. "Do I have icing on my face or something?"

"No, you don't. I just…" I stopped from telling her the words that perched on the tip of my tongue, telling her that I was just making sure she was real. That I thought I might be dreaming right now because it seemed that I had finally found her. "I just wanted to thank you for checking on me." I said and nodded my head.

I couldn't take my eyes off her's, I hadn't been able to look anyone in the eyes since my mother, and even then, it wasn't a simple thing to do.

It wasn't easy, not like it was right now.

Her eyes widened and her hand came up to my face and then she quickly withdrew it. "Your nose," she pointed at mine, then back at her's, "your nose is bleeding a little."

"Shit," I mumbled and I reached up to touch my upper lip. I forgot about the nose bleeds that followed the invasions—that's what I called them, because that was how it was for me. Other people's thoughts invaded my mind so swiftly, it was a hostile takeover.

"Come on," she grabbed the lapel of my jacket and tugged me to follow behind her. She didn't have to pull hard, I would have gone anywhere with her.

I realized she was taking me back toward the front of the bakery where the patrons were, so I reached up to clamp down my headphones again tighter on my ears.

I closed my eyes when the chatter started, it wasn't too loud, maybe four people or so, nothing I couldn't handle and it seemed to be almost muted for some reason.

She pulled me into a small office and shut the door. The voices weren't much louder than murmurs, at least I couldn't comprehend what their exact thoughts were.

"What are you listening to?" She pointed to my headphones as she pulled a first aid kit out of a desk drawer.

I pushed one headphone back off my ear and let it rest on the side of my head. "Nothing right now, my battery is dead. Um, you really don't have to do this." I pointed as she opened an alcohol wipe.

"No, it's okay. Why do you still have them on if you're not listening to anything?" She asked as she proceeded to step closer to me.

The fluorescents in the office were much brighter than the lights were in the hallway. The closer to me she got, the more I noticed how absolutely beautiful she was. Her skin was pale with random freckles scattered across her nose and along her sharp cheekbones. Her hair was the darkest mahogany and it looked to be so soft.

My eyes danced over her face, soaking in her natural beauty. I traced over the edges of her features with my eyes, memorizing her so I could dream about her later.

I bet this is what angels look like.

"Sit down," she motioned with her head to the chair to my right.

"Now scoot back," she hovered over me and then brought up and bent her knee to balance herself on the chair in between my legs. Her left hand came up to hold my cheek as her right began to clean up my nose.

"Gloves?" I suggested.

She giggled again, and I watched as she licked her lips and shook her head. "Nah, I'm being careful. A little blood won't kill me."

I couldn't help but lean into her hand that held my cheek, she was so warm and it'd been so long since anyone had touched me. I knew what I'd been missing, but I had forgotten that it was this nice.

Her tongue slowly moved along the edge of her teeth, as with precision, she cleaned off my face.

I felt the intense stirring of my body, her close proximity causing me to be on alert...and hard. My breathing began to speed. Her knee was right there, if I shifted, she would feel what she was doing to me. That might be bad.

My hands were in tight fists at my sides, I'd never wanted to reach out and touch something so much.

Her hand inched forward to stretch the skin on my upper lip, "Tilt your head back a little. I'm almost done." She moved even closer, her knee now flush with my crotch.

I held in my groan and instead focused on her eyes. The brown was so deep and dark, little specks of green and black dotted her irises. Her eyelashes were long and had perfect curl, even without any obvious eye makeup. I'd bet people pay lots of money to look like she does now.

The door suddenly swung open and I was startled to see the other woman from behind the counter glaring at my brown-eyed beauty.

"What are you doing?" Counter woman said through clenched teeth.

The girl in front of me didn't let go of my face, "Shut the door, I'll be out in a minute." She wasn't in the least bit fazed by the older lady. She just looked at me and rolled her eyes. I smiled and then glanced back behind her at the open door. I noticed that both ladies had the same round face and dark hair.

"Bella, I swear, if you don't stop…" Counter lady was pissed, but oddly I couldn't read her mind. I couldn't hear her, even when I was looking right at her.

What was it about this place?

I had noticed that she called the girl who was cleaning me up, Bella. Her name was Bella. That was so ...perfect.

Then Bella let go of me and spun around, "Shut the door Renee!" she shouted rudely.

It was like in slow motion, in that instant when her skin disconnected from my own, the mumblings around me tripled in volume. Like it sounds when someone sits on the television remote and the volume goes for four to forty within seconds, almost wide open. There were voices filling my head from everywhere.

That was until Bella turned back toward me and placed her hand back on my face.

Then there was silence again.

Mere seconds, quiet to loud to quiet again.

Was this some kind of cruel joke fate was playing on me? Tempting me with how it could be if only I was normal?

Or was this what I wanted it to be? What I had always prayed for?

The door slammed, but I couldn't look away from Bella. She was the one, she was my saving grace. I just knew it. Her mind was silent to me and her touch—her touch shielded me more than music ever could.

But...

This could be bad.

I panicked.

"I have to go." I tried to stand, but she was so close, I didn't want to push her down.

I needed air and space and to think and I needed... away.

"You're shaking, are you all right?" Her palm smoothed over my cheek.

Goosebumps covered my flesh and I felt the beginning of saltwater pooling in my eyes.

"Please," I all but begged in a whisper. "Please, I need to leave now."

She stepped back and her hand fell away. My ears were suddenly filled with loud, mindless chatter. I covered them both tight with my headphones and cupped them with my hands.

I briskly walked off watching my feet out the office door and out of the bakery. Not turning around even once to look at her.

My mind spun so quick, I felt dizzy.

Then I took off in a sprint toward my apartment.

Tears stung my face as the passing wind whipped around me. I hummed to myself as my mind was bombarded with the thoughts of strangers around me, but my questions were screaming louder, demanding answers.

With every breath of my lungs, every blink of my eyes, every pound of my heart, every step I took, all I could picture was brown eyes and mahogany hair and the answer to all my prayers.


	4. Chapter 4

_Pyejammies gets the credit for the beta._

_Ttharman gets the thanks for prereading this chapter. _

_I get the credit for all mistakes & for the delay of an update. Let's just agree that self-doubt is suffocating and ugly and magnifies writers block ten-fold. _

_I'm still not sure if I know what I'm doing..._

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><p><strong>On a windswept hill<strong>  
><strong>by a billowing sea,<strong>  
><strong>my destiny sits<strong>  
><strong>and waits for me.<strong>  
><strong>~Robert Brault<strong>

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><p><strong>1001 - Chapter 4, Just Her<strong>

I was right; the loud noise of construction across the street was a nice buffer from the leaked thoughts of my neighbour's. I wasn't constantly eavesdropping on them and it was a welcome change. I didn't even have to keep my music playing all the time.

The past few days I'd come to realize though, that the noise didn't matter so much, my mind seemed to keep itself preoccupied thinking about her. All my thoughts were revolving around her. Every single one. I kept trying to figure out how and understand the impossibility. I even wondered why? Why me? Why her? Why now?

After all this time, in all the places, in all the cities, in all the world, how did I find her?

Or was it that she found me?

Or was I somehow led to her?

Could it have been… was it really fate? Because if my batteries hadn't died, I wouldn't have ever entered that bakery— it was a confined place, with too many people — not my typical place to stop.

But I did, and she was there, and now I couldn't quit thinking about her.

I would never have known that she existed merely walking distance from me.

I still didn't really know much about her. I knew her first name and how it described her so perfectly. I was aware of the deep intensity that hid in her eyes and the subtle spectrum of highlights in her hair. I also knew that she had eighteen freckles on her left cheek, and twenty-four on her right.

And who could forget the way she smelled — so, so sweet — like strawberry frosting with a hint of honey.

I knew all that and it still wasn't enough.

I needed more.

**~1001~**

I would have sworn I'd worn the varnish off the floors with my constant pacing around my living room, pausing with each pass at my front door.

I couldn't do it. As soon as I gripped the steel of the doorknob, I became statue-like. Frozen with fear; stunned by the unknown, but so alive with curiosity and want that my skin buzzed. Yet the cowardice proved to be most powerful, beating out all the other emotions every time. The door became my guard, keeping me in, but also, keeping her away.

It was no help to read or watch television, my mind was unable to focus. I couldn't even sleep soundly, so instead I sat for hours on the internet researching.

First, I looked for a plausible answer, could she really shield and block my mind? From what I'd found, all signs pointed to, yes. In the small realm of telepathy, anything was really possible, even my condition itself was still on the unexplainable side, so why not the opposite?

Then I researched her name, all I had to go on was Bella. There were too many Isabella-slash-Bella's in the metropolitan Chicago area to single her out, so instead I found and read on the origin of her name. Often I found myself whispering it aloud over and over into the empty space around me.

Then I looked up her bakery,_ Sweetie's_. I found and read about its history and the public reviews about it that had been written in local publications. I learned it had received a high rating every quarter when inspected. I even studied the menu and its weekly specials.

I found out that the other woman at the bakery was the owner, Renee Dwyer, but I still wasn't sure of her relationship to Bella. An older article I found in the local newspaper archives said Ms. Dwyer was a young widow who had inherited the bakery from her deceased husband, but there was no mention of her having any children or siblings. I even found her husband, Phil Dwyer's, obituary, yet it gave me no new information.

I still didn't know enough.

**~1001~**

It took me five days, to be more exact — exactly one hundred and twenty one hours — to work up the nerve to walk back to that bakery.

But I still couldn't go inside.

Every day I walked toward her, my headphones in place and covered up with either the hood of my jacket or a beanie pulled down low on my head. I found a tree across the street to lean on where I had a perfect view of the inside of the bakery, so I just watched.

I counted the customers as they arrived and then left, mentally logging their time inside. I now knew that the bakery was the busiest in the morning and at late lunch and I should avoid it at all costs on Wednesdays, those were cupcake days, and their busiest day of the week.

I enjoyed the afternoons when there was a light, constant breeze. That gentle wind would send the sweet smell of sugar dough and iced cakes my way and it would make my mouth water.

But it was also more than that. On those days, when even from across the street I could taste double fudge brownies and blueberry muffins on the air, I could also remember Bella more vibrantly, it was as if she was standing before me again. Her smell invaded my memory, all fruity and sweet. Her eyes wide and caring. Her touch warm and soft. Her lips pink and wet. Her mind so still and so quiet.

I'd never felt anything like this before, I couldn't even define it. What I felt was more than curiosity and it was more than lust.

It was everything.

After wasting almost two weeks without her, I couldn't wait any longer, I had to know. I had to see her again and I needed to test my theories.

My legs trembled as I walked; my palms were cold from sweating. My music was loud and I concentrated on the sharp clang of the piano keys and the mild notes of the saxophone in my ears to try to calm me.

My nose flared as I approached the bakery and my breathing sped up. The closer I got, the more the air thickened with honey and maple and nervousness and hope. It was all I could do to draw it into my lungs without sputtering. I almost felt strangled and choked.

Could I do this?

I stood outside on the sidewalk. Her door merely steps away and stared down at my feet. This was it, all or nothing. This would either be a blessing or a total disappointment.

This could change my life.

Or shatter me.

Then to actually speak to her … I took a few deep breaths and stepped up to the glass entryway.

Here goes everything.

As soon as I opened the door, the air that encircled me was sweet and warm. I closed my eyes and inhaled it deep, breathing it in. It calmed me just enough to get my bearings.

I faintly heard the tinkle of the bell on the door as it closed behind me.

The noise of the other customers wasn't too loud, but I reached up and pressed down on my headphones just to be safe.

I was still standing in the same spot right inside the doorway when I saw her; she was standing behind the counter talking to an elderly woman who was paying for her purchases.

My legs ached to move, my feet even began to slide and shuffle toward her, but my mind was busy being mesmerized. My heart was having a conniption fit in my chest, and my spirit — it was soaring.

I realized instantly that my memories hadn't done her justice. She was more breathtaking than I had given her credit for.

As I stood there watching her and the seconds slipped away, it became a little clearer to me. It was like, if I tried hard enough to concentrate on her and her alone, the room got quieter, as if her shield expanded letting only me in.

The thought popped in my mind that I shouldn't stare, that I should look away from her. That I should try to be casual and not be so intense, but I didn't know if I had it in me, this was intense.

My nervousness was gone, instead now I was filled with something more than an attraction that couldn't be denied or ignored. I had a reason to approach her. A purpose. I had a need.

For a brief second, she peeked up from the open money drawer and tilted her head around to see who was standing behind her current customer.

That would be me.

Our eyes met for mere milliseconds, it was so brief, but I felt it. I felt the excitement, the satisfaction, the possibilities, and the hope — they all expanded in my chest filling me and squeezing out my worries and my dread.

It was crazy that I suddenly didn't feel so lost and alone anymore and yet nothing had really happened.

She looked back to the money in her hand and her customer, so I leaned a little more to my left to see around the woman in front of me to watch her.

Bella smiled so big it felt like the air thinned and lifted from around me. She kept chatting with the lady ahead of me, but her eyes kept dancing over to meet mine. Her bottom lip caught under her teeth as if to stop her grin.

I swear I thought my heart forgot to beat for a minute, because it seemed that just, maybe, she was happy to see me too.

When the woman finally said her goodbyes and stepped away from the counter, I practically jumped into the exact spot in which she had been standing.

Bella watched me move closer, she wiped her hands on her apron and then tucked them into her front pockets.

"Headphone guy, you're back." She said with a small voice that was quieter than I remembered and it almost sounded like a question.

So I answered her, "Yeah, I am."

I spoke with a boldness I didn't know I had, but I'd never been surer of anything. This was the right time, this was the right place. Maybe even the right girl.

"Good," she murmured and I thought in that instant that the crown might blow off the top of my head and spin around just like in those old cartoons.

But, of course, it didn't.

"My sister said you paid her ten dollars to use our bathroom the other day..." She reached around and lifted something beside the register and pulled out a ten dollar bill. Then she handed it toward me. "I would've only charged you five," she teased with a soft smile.

Her eyes were so alive and vibrant; I could have stared into them all day long.

I reached out for her outstretched hand and gently grabbed her wrist, finally, her skin on mine. The wave of quiet and calm that overtook me was swift and powerful, it was something that I'd only ever experienced before in my dreams. It was perfect.

I turned her hand, palm side up, which was holding onto the bill, and curled her fingers around it with my other hand, closing her fist. Then I didn't let go, I couldn't. Not yet anyway. "Keep it. I don't want it. I came back here to thank you. That day…" I swallowed hard as I searched for an explanation. Of all the things I had thought about her — about finally seeing her again, I hadn't even considered what I was going to say.

"That day I was having a bad day and you helped me… so much. Thank you." I still couldn't look away from her, nor was I going to release her hand until I had to.

She had this smile on her face, and her lips were apart, and her eyes were wide. She looked down to our hands, up to my face, and then back down again.

Once again, I found myself wishing to hear her thoughts and her thoughts alone. I just couldn't read her; it was an odd thing for me.

She placed her free hand on the top of mine. We looked liked kids who were trying to get the top spot of the handle of a baseball bat. "You're welcome, but at least take something for your money. How about a muffin or a bagel?" She didn't pull away as she asked.

"Something sweeter," I suggested. "Something with strawberries."

Her smile grew bigger and it was like I felt the sunshine break through the clouds on a dreary day and instantly it warmed me. She did that.

"Strawberries are a good choice, they're my favorite."

"Mine too," I admitted, especially since I'd met her.

She slowly pulled her hands away and mine dropped to the counter. The sound around me was minimal; I even turned down my music some.

She bent over to grab a small paper bag and wax paper. My eyes never left her, and hers kept a close watch on me.

She turned and opened one of the glass doors that lined the wall behind her. She held it open with her hip and put a few items in a bag.

It didn't matter to me what she gave me now, I had intentions of visiting this bakery a lot in the near future. I would sample all the goods.

She folded the top over on the bag and handed it to me. I took it and set it down on the counter.

"Thank you." I stuck out my hand, remembering to properly introduce myself. "My name is Edward Masen."

She laughed as she reached for my hand. "You're welcome, again, and I am Bella, Bella Swan."

Our handshake was slow and deliberate, savouring almost. Her hand seemed so small compared to mine. Her skin was soft and smooth and I loved the feeling of its warmth, there was nothing like it. My thumb lazily rubbed over the back of her hand.

Touch.

Touch.

Touch.

There was such quietness around me.

I'd never been able to ignore my surroundings like this; I never imagined it could be so peaceful.

"It's wonderful to meet you, Bella Swan."

I heard the door open behind me and the rattle in my mind buzzed a little louder. Bella looked behind me at the parade of customers that had walked into the store. I didn't need to look; I felt the shake of the floor through the soles of my shoes.

It reminded me that our time was limited; I needed to get on with it.

She started to let go of my hand.

"Go to dinner with me." I all but blurted out.

"Seriously?" She asked as her cheeks faded to the pinkest pink.

"Well," I blew out a quick breath knowing there really wasn't an easy way to say this. "Yeah, I want to take you to dinner but it will have to be at my place. To be honest with you, I really," I shook my head and closed my eyes. I leaned forward as I tried to explain, "I don't ..." I opened my eyes and stared into hers again, she made it easier for me to speak. "I don't do right, er—well around crowds, um... you know, lots of people? It's too difficult for me to deal with for reasons I'd rather not say right now. So if you don't mind being alone with me, I'd love to get to know you better."

She squeezed my hand and slowly dropped it as the people behind us came closer.

"I'd think I'd like that, but to also be honest with you, I think you should know that it would be only as friends. For reasons that I'd rather not explain. Just friends. So, do you still want to? I mean, is that alright with you?"

I nodded, "Friends, you say? I think that sounds just fine. You can never have too many friends."

Friends I could deal with, of course I was sure I'd be exclusive with her this very second if she were to ask, but if she was offering friendship then that's what I was taking.

I was positive of one thing though for sure, and that was the fact that I needed Bella Swan in my life.

In every way.

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><p><em>I read all your reviews. I love them &amp; appreciate them more that words can say. Sorry I haven't review replied, if only I knew how to explain it.<em>


	5. Chapter 5

_Pyejammies beta'd & made me add more to it, lol... TY_

_M & K preread, *mwah*... TY_

_It's gonna b a slow build..._

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><p><strong>"No one can tell, when two people walk closely together, what unconscious communication one mind may have with another" ~ Robert Barr<strong>

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><p><strong>1001 - Chapter 5, The Walk <strong>

Time can be such a fickle thing. On some days, hours tease and linger, they draw out and seem to last longer than sixty minutes. Other days, hours hurry and speed. I could blink my eyes and suddenly realize that somehow I lost a few of them in what I would have sworn was only minutes.

Today I couldn't decide which way I wanted it to be.

I left Bella's bakery two hours ago. Those hours passed quickly as I ordered the ingredients for our dinner tonight. Then I walked around my clean apartment to make sure everything was positively straightened up and all was tidy.

The grocery down the street delivered my items twenty three minutes ago. I already had the soup on the stove waiting for it to simmer. The rolls were ready to be put in the oven and the salad was tossed and covered in a bowl in the refrigerator.

There was nothing left for me to do but wait.

And wait.

Try to be patient.

It was only four hours and thirty-nine minutes before I was due to pick her back up from Sweetie's.

Wait. Wait. Wait.

Maybe time needs to hurry up today.

Before I lose my nerve.

**~1001~**

The lights at Sweetie's were already off when I arrived. I leaned forward on my toes to peer through the window into the darkened space. She was the only person inside the closed bakery. She was simply standing there flipping through a magazine. So casual. So pretty.

There was a constant battle waging in my mind. One side was trying to convince me that I had no business being here and that there was no way she would be worth the trouble in the long run. The other side was all in, worth it or not, and I would be proven a fool not to try.

I was taking the side of the latter, because one thing I was sure of, I was no fool.

I stood upright and stretched out my arms. I vigorously shook my hands as though I was merely shaking off excess water instead of the overwhelming uneasiness that was threatening to steal my breath.

I dismissed the anxious screams of my doubt and rapped my knuckles on the window to let her know I was here. It was time to do this.

Past time really.

She lifted her hand and mouthed for me to wait. I watched as she rushed around behind the counter flipping switches and checking locks. Excitement swiftly replaced everything else I was feeling. I might not come down from this high for days.

She threw me a smile as she stepped out the front door toward me. It was as though she had not a care in the world. I was envious of that. She looked so happy and carefree.

She glanced up at my headphones and her eyes lingered there. Once again, fear and doubt covered me, and all I could think was to retreat and save myself the ridicule and the hurt. But then her vision trailed down my face. My skin buzzed under her scrutiny and just like that our eyes met and locked on each other. In that instant the rest of the world slipped and faded away. It was just her and just me. It was nothing. And it was everything.

It was like I was on the verge of being caught and I didn't know which way to turn. Did she think I was crazy? Did she care? Did I even want to know what she thought? If only she knew how much power she had over me. Her looks could judge. Her words could condemn. Her rejection could kill.

But her acceptance, that could be the cure all.

As prevalent and distracting my idiosyncrasies were for me, they didn't appear to faze her a bit because with just a shrug of her shoulders, our exchange was over. The tension immediately doused like a lighted match being dropped into a bucket of cool water. Her lips curled and her eyes twinkled and the earth resumed its rotation. Her attention went back to the door as she shook it to double check the lock, seemingly forgetting all about what a crazy boy I must be wearing headphones every time she saw me.

Maybe she does understand my weirdness, or maybe she just doesn't care.

Either way, that makes me think that possibly we really could do this, we could be friends.

So, I tried not to worry so much. I knew I'd have to explain why I wore them to her to some extent, but I wasn't ready to tell her everything. My gift was something I guarded very closely. I hadn't spoken about it or told anyone about it in years.

It was too soon to know if she might be the one to break that silence. I knew that, even though I was just a kid the last time I talked to anyone about my telepathy, things really hadn't changed that much. Finding out someone could read minds tended to be a deal breaker.

Nothing was said as we turned and began to walk the pavement toward my place. I had lucked out. Tonight the streets were fairly quiet and bare. I had even debated with myself about taking off my headphones.

But I didn't. I couldn't.

The chance of running into a crowd was too great.

I did turn down my music to a low hum, just enough to distract my mind and calm me enough.

I shortened my stride and our slow steps easily fell in line with one another.

I kept glancing over at her, she had this half smile on her face and it looked as though she was trying not to laugh.

I tucked my hands into my pockets. I couldn't define the way I felt. So far, this was just too easy. Too right. My hope was great.

Yet it was still early.

One time she caught me looking at her. Her smile increased and she laughed. Her giggle floated and mingled in the air between us, easing the tension, alleviating the awkwardness.

"Hi." I said in a low breathy way trying to divert and keep my embarrassment at bay.

"Hey," she returned as she shook her head and kept on walking.

Her steps became crooked as she stumbled over to walk closer to me. Our bodies still parallel but now in tandem, our knees almost knocking with each step.

Then she linked her arm through mine, her hand gently gripping my forearm, her shoulder brushing up against my bicep as we strolled down the pavement. I couldn't react, couldn't speak, couldn't do anything but feel and smile... and soar. She was holding onto me like it was the most natural thing in the world.

I couldn't help but hope that it was.

Even through the layers of my jacket and my shirt, I could feel the warmth of her hand. With the silence and peace that occupied her touch, it was effortless for me to focus totally on her. So easy.

I couldn't have hid my smile, not even if I had wanted to.

"You're not a serial killer are you?" She broke the silence and asked without looking at me, that sly grin still present on her lips.

I abruptly stopped walking which caused her to lose her balance and fall into me.

Quickly I grabbed onto her elbows and kept her upright and safe. I didn't pull her flush into my arms, not like I thought about. Not like I craved.

I wanted to appear insulted by her question, but with her this close, her smell teasing me, her eyes wide and bright, and her teeth biting into her bottom lip, I couldn't. I could barely form words. "I promise I'm not a _cereal_ killer, I like Frosted Flakes too much."

Her long hair almost covered the smooth expansion of her back when she tilted her head back and laughed at me. I reluctantly let go of her arms, while not missing a single move she made. I was sure to catalogue every single facial expression and commit to memory the way she responded with her body – her hands flailing around, her chest shaking, her knees bending. I attempted to memorize her laugh, I even thought about trying to record it and loop it on my iPod so I could listen to it later.

Talk about calming and distracting.

We began to walk again, her fingers found their home curled around my forearm. I took my time leading her to my place, trying to prolong our time, trying to lengthen perfection.

I never knew a simple walk with another person could be so fulfilling. I supposed the company did matter though and at the present, my company was best.

"What about a werewolf? Are you a werewolf?" Her nose crinkled as she asked and her voice was toned down and serious.

"Nope," I laughed through my nose, "I'm not a werewolf."

"Vampire?" This time she looked towards me and wiggled her eyebrows.

She was being playful and she seemed to trust me already.

I wasn't sure what I did to deserve this.

To deserve her.

I played along. I slightly opened my mouth and licked the edge of my top teeth, "You seem to want me to be a vampire, no?" I spoke with a slightly delusional Dracula accent.

She ducked her head, "No comment." But even through the veil of her hair I could see her cheeks stain pink.

I playfully jutted my elbow into to her side, "I promise Bella, I'm not a bad guy. I'm pretty much the opposite of dangerous; I don't think you could get much safer than me."

She looked up at me, her expression more serious than I expected it to be. Her eyes were round and bright, and I saw my face reflected in their watery gloss. Looking at those eyes was like glimpsing the near-still surface of a dark pond at twilight - I had no idea how deep it ran, or what lurked inside. And I knew that if I fell in, I might never get out.

And it was so tempting.

"Safe, huh?" I wasn't sure if she meant to, but she squeezed my arm when she asked. She quickly looked away, but the depth of her eyes stayed with me. The desire to learn and chase away that darkness that had briefly made its presence known in her eyes became my new goal.

"Yeah. I'm not the bad guy."

"I like that." She simply answered.

If only I could tell her everything that I already liked about her.

**~1001~**

An older man with two young girls caught my eye crossing the street head of us. Bella didn't seem to be aware of his presence, but I had already caught his stare – his eyes boring into mine.

Instinctively I braced myself for the onslaught of thoughts; his inner voice to invade my head and the inane chatter of his little girls.

Briefly forgetting all about my own personal shield who was holding onto my arm.

So I chanced it. As he approached, I didn't look away. My usual habit of concentrating solely on the ground below me dismissed for another time.

His eyes were bouncing back and forth, from Bella to me and then back to Bella. And like magic poured from cracked and broken stars, I didn't hear a single thought or word.

Bella wiggled her fingers in a wave at the giggling girls as they passed us. The man ushered them along as he told them to quiet down.

In that moment it felt as though I was untouchable, as if no one could pull me down. For a change, it was like _I _had the power, not the other way around.

I was normal.

"What are you smiling about?" she asked with another squeeze of my arm.

I shook my head and motioned ahead, "We're almost there. My place is just around the corner."

"Good, I'm starving!"

"I hope soup and salad is all right with you. My cooking skills are very... primitive." I admitted, withholding the idea that, for her, I would learn to be a gourmet chief.

I can't explain how pleasant it was to want to please another. I couldn't remember the last time.

"I think soup and salad sounds kind of perfect right now." She said with a nod of her head.

My cheeks slightly ached from smiling so much. I led her up the steps towards my apartment.

She let go of my arm and walked behind me. I unlocked my door and motioned for her to enter. She tentatively stepped in, glancing all around at her surroundings.

"How about a tour after we eat?"

"Sounds like a plan."

She found her way to the kitchen, still looking all around at my place. She stopped and leaned her backside up against the counter, both her elbows bent and hands gripping the counter top.

I flipped on the small radio that I kept in the kitchen. Then I turned away from her & slipped off my headphones, sliding the tips of my fingers through the top of my hair to keep it from being flat.

I laid them down and turned around to face her.

She was looking me over; it made me feel exposed and bare. No one ever saw me without my headphones any more. It's just how it was.

Her face was serious, but her eyes were drawing me in again. I saw her concern there; it seemed to be bottomless and alluring.

"Tell me why you wear them?" She nodded toward where my headphones lay.

I took a deep breath, still not knowing how to answer that question.

But knowing that I had to.

And in a small way, somewhere deep inside of me, I wanted to.


End file.
